Joan stopped. Retrieved her drink. Sipped. “But it won’t kill her. The doctors will discover her cancer. She’ll be able to live out the rest of her life. With honor. She’ll be a hero.”
JC took her drink. Finished it. “And?”
“And we won’t be hunted for the rest of our lives.”
Not a bad plan, he thought. Looked at the slight bit of whiskey left in the bottom of the glass. Wondered what brand it was.
“Problems?” he asked.
Joan shrugged. “Dozens, I’m sure.”
“Biggest.”
“Who gets blamed for it?”
JC nodded. That had been bothering him for some time. Kowalski’s plan was to pin it on one of the Sons of Liberty. But with every last one of them supposedly dead, it would be difficult to convince the press that one of their own went crazy, killed everyone in their compound, shot the senator and then disappeared. Maybe not that difficult, actually. But conspiracy theorists would tear it apart. Enough noise from the right places and it would all fall apart.
He still liked that plan. It was the version he had planned to convince Kowalski to use. Mostly because he knew it would fit the narrative Guy had constructed in his mind. And the fact that it would further pin him up against the wall when Franklin and his group went public with the farcical assault on their compound. But if Kowalski took half a minute to think about it, he’d start to see the problems. Start to look for someone else to pin it on. Soon enough, JC knew, his gaze would turn to the team. Which is what they had wanted to avoid in the first place.
“A dead senator means no stone left unturned,” Joan said. “The world torn apart looking for those responsible.”
JC nodded.
“But an injured senator,” Joan continued. Left the sentence unfinished.
“You’ve spent time around her this past week,” JC said. “Do you think she’ll be grateful? Or vengeful?”
Joan didn’t answer. Went to the back of the plane. Refilled the glass from the mini bar. Came back. Sat.
“Three things. First, I think she doesn’t want to die. She makes it through this solution, she’ll have the best medical care in the world. No pain. Her cancer is far enough along that there won’t be time for her body to acclimatize to the pain medication and make it worthless. She’ll spend the next six months to a year pain-free. Get to say goodbye to her family.”
JC nodded. Marcus was very close to her husband and her two daughters. Although the senator hadn’t said it, he knew not saying goodbye to her family was weighing on her.
He reached for Joan’s drink. She moved it out of his reach. Smiled.
“Second. Being shot gives her all the political capital she wants. Allows her to do any of the policy making her little heart desires. She’ll be alive to direct it, a living icon. This will make her grateful for the opportunity to continue her life’s work.”
Joan sipped her drink. JC briefly thought about getting up and making his own. Decided he’d rather take hers. So he did. Sipped. Didn’t give it back.
“Third. We give the money back.”
JC had mulled this part of the equation over and over again in his mind as well. The fee was reasonable for the work being performed. But if the senator lived, a possibility he had kept coming back to in his own mind, the political fallout from her procuring the funds could ruin her.
A ruined person can often become a vengeful person.
“How?” he asked Joan.
“Duke. He’s got the computer skills. A guy that can hack into the DOD database can likely find ways to put the money back where it belongs. At least create enough doubt in those who thought it was gone to let Senator Marcus live out the last few months of her life without repercussions.”
That had been JC’s conclusion as well. Simply giving the money back to Marcus would create paper trails and lead back to her. Asking her to deal with that when she was medicated to the gills to block out the pain of her shooting and her cancer would be a recipe for disaster. Duke could do it. JC knew he had the skills. Didn’t know he’d ever hacked into the DOD database. But if he could do that, he could certainly take care of this part of the plan.
Question is, would he actually do it?
JC handed her back the drink. Leaned back in the leather chair. Closed his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”
Joan stood. Leaned over. “Thanks again for the scarf,” she whispered in his ear. Let her hand linger a second longer than necessary on his shoulder as she walked away.
He opened one eye. “I was just the delivery boy. Thank the person who got it for you,” he said over his shoulder. Softly to not waken Duke or Theo.
Joan stopped. Turned. “I just did.” Walked to the back of the plane.
JC settled back down in his seat. Closed his eyes. Smiled. How the hell does she always figure me out? he asked himself yet again.
Turned his mind to the problem of the senator.
An hour before the plane landed his plan was made. He fell asleep.
Chapter 36
Hook, Line and Sinker
“Where’s the rifle?” Kowalski asked as soon as JC opened the door to the hotel room in the Beverly Wilshire.
“Go to hell,” JC said.
He pushed past Kowalski. The three agents inside the room rose silently and exited just as silently. The General was sitting on the sofa. He didn’t move. JC sat in an armchair as Duke, Theo and Joan entered the room, standing near him. Kowalski closed the door.
“You told me you had the rifle,” he said.
JC popped up. “And you told me the compound would be nearly empty,” he yelled at Kowalski. “But instead there’s just a smoldering pile of ash and bones in the middle of the desert.”
JC walked to the window, his back to everyone in the room. Looked out across Beverly Hills. Nice place, he thought. Waited for Kowalski. Would the man be aggressive? Try to crush him? Or would he turn on the charm? Pull the old friend shtick?
Kowalski stood near the door. Sighed. “Listen, JC, I am sorry about that. I know my intel was wrong. I double checked it. I should have triple checked it, but I was in a hurry and I got sloppy. I apologize.”
JC smiled. The old friend shtick. Good. In JC’s experience the old buddy routine was used when people were trying to screw him. Which made the course of action he had chosen all the easier.
He wiped the smile from his face. Furrowed his brows. Curled the edges of his mouth downward. Did his best to exude hatred and anger. Which, if things had gone down as Kowalski thought they had, would be exactly how he would feel. It worked. He was pissed. Turned around.
“Yeah? Well, you can imagine what your apology is worth to me right about now.”
Kowalski stood there. “JC. Listen, buddy. Things got screwed up. It was my fault. But we need to be looking at the larger picture, here. They were not good people. The kids? Yeah, I feel bad about them. But the group was cooking up meth. They were dealing with terrorists. Buying and selling people. I’m sorry they died, but it’s kind of a hazardous occupation they were in. And having kids in that environment?” Kowalski shook his head. “It’s on the parents’ shoulders. Not yours.”
JC almost jumped at Kowalski’s lies. Almost slapped him in the face with the truth right there. Instead he let his anger cool. Let indecision cloud his face. Watched Kowalski eat it up. Looked at the members of his team. Saw the confusion on their faces. He hadn’t told them all the details of the plan. Just a few points he needed them to bring up. He wanted them to be in the dark. Wanted their reactions to be more raw. More realistic.
JC looked at The General. Something was off about the man. He wasn’t observing. JC knew the look on the old man’s face when he was observing. It was a distant look. Right now, his eyes were bright. Alive. Interested.
He was evaluating.
But why?
“Yes,” JC said, turning to Kowalski, “we have the rifle. But it will remain under our control until this operation is finished. We are the shooters. We hol
d the hardware.”
Kowalski shook his head. “Sorry, but I am to be in possession of the rifle until the day of the shooting.” He shrugged. “Senator’s orders. She wants things more under her control.”
JC expected this. While not ideal, it really didn’t matter. Kowalski could do nothing with it that could hurt them. Plus, it gave the agent a chance to feel superior. To make him think he was the one in control.
JC nodded his head. Dropped his eyes. Acquiesced. “We’ll bring it by later today. After we settle in.”
Kowalski smiled. Just a hint. Then it disappeared. “Good.” Walked to the table in the middle of the room. Picked up some papers.
JC glanced again at The General. His eyes were narrowed slightly. Kowalski may have known JC when they were in basic training together, but The General had been his commanding officer and knew him a fair bit better than Kowalski did. Plus, The General’s BS detection was on par with Meier’s. JC had no idea whose side The General was on. Likely his own side. But JC was pretty sure The General had just figured out they were pulling one over on Kowalski.
So JC winked at him.
The General leaned back in the sofa, smiling.
“General Robinson?” Kowalski said, turning towards him, still looking at the papers in his hand. The General’s smile disappeared. “Do you mind going with Bannister? Bringing the rifle here?”
The General bristled at the suggestion. “You’ve got a bigger problem than whose grubby mitts are on your pretty little toy, son. You’ve got a pile of burned up bodies who were supposed to be arrested and then used as part of your grand scheme to pull this damn thing off. That’s what you need to be thinking about, not whose gonna be fetchin’ some little plinkin’ rifle.”
Kowalski looked at the man. Realization washed over his face. He dropped the papers back on the table.
Joan stepped forward. “No need to change the plan. Who’s to say someone didn’t escape? Who’s to say the cause of the fire isn’t some disgruntled member?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Theo chimed in. “Maybe some guy got fed up with how the Sons were dragging their feet on what he wanted them to do. Had a falling out with the leader. Kicked off this whole mess.”
Kowalski was looking around at the group. Started nodding his head. “The plan doesn’t need to change. Same thing, only instead of arresting some of the members, releasing them and pinning it on one guy who would never be seen again, we pin it on someone who died in the fire.”
JC stood back. His team was hitting the marks he had set for them. He tried his best to hold back his grin. Decided to let it out. No harm right now.
The General was shaking his head. “Pretty damn hard to do with no body.”
Duke jumped in. “Not at all. We just have to make it look like there was a body.”
“What the hell are you talkin’ about, son?”
“Not a body,” Duke continued. “Somebody.” His voice and mannerism changed slightly. “A phantom. An apparition. Second cousin to Harvey the Rabbit.” He paused. Nobody caught his Shawshank Redemption reference, so he continued on with his regular voice. “A false entity. Someone who, on paper, existed, but never did exist.”
The General didn’t like the sound of it. It was written all over his face. JC stepped in. “You can do that? Create a person like that? Backstop their life story? All the way up to their birth?” he said. JC knew Duke could. But they were trying to sell a story. Needed to sell Duke’s expertise.
Kowalski was hanging on every word. His head was bobbing back and forth, watching as each team member spoke. Like he was watching a tennis game.
“Sure,” Duke said. “Not really a problem. Find a young couple who died in a car crash. Create a hospital record for a baby who survived. Adoption records, foster homes, school admissions and miserable report cards. Scrapes with the law. Hell, I’ll even create a report about how our phantom tried to join the Army but got turned down because of a psych eval.”
“Dude, throw in some high school Spanish classes,” Theo said. “Only thing he ever got good grades at. Then, after the senator is dead, we can throw up some false trails and news reports that take our little phantom down into Mexico. Crosses the border illegally the other way, then disappears somewhere in South America.”
Kowalski was nodding. He’s in, JC thought, hook, line and sinker.
“How long will that take?” JC asked Duke. The answer didn’t matter. He was just playing it up for effect.
Duke looked up, shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe six or eight hours. Less if I have access to good internet connections.”
“Get started on it,” Kowalski said. “Make sure to cover your tracks. Last thing we want is this operation blowing back on us.”
JC and the team headed for the door. The General stood to follow them.
“JC?” Kowalski said, “I need you to bring that rifle around as soon as you can.”
JC was expecting that. Didn’t figure Kowalski would let him have the sniper rifle for very long. JC wanted to needle him just a bit more. He frowned. Headed for the door.
“You’ll get your damn gun,” he said over his shoulder. Walked out the door of the suite, leaving it open.
Joan, Duke, Theo and The General followed him out.
Chapter 37
The Bit
The ride in the elevator was quiet. While JC had no problem with The General accompanying them, Duke and Theo couldn’t stop shuffling their feet. Joan stared straight ahead, watching the red LED numbers tick down. They walked out together. Theo handed the valet their ticket. Waited.
“Can we drop you somewhere, General?” Duke finally said.
“No you cannot. You kids served up a mighty nice plate of steaming bull in there. That boy ate it up with a big ol’ spoon and asked for more. But don’t think for a damn second you pulled one over on me. The senator asked me to observe. And it seems to me that you folks here are the one runnin’ this operation, despite what Agent Kowalski might think. So I’m coming with you. To observe.”
JC and his team looked at each other with amusement. And a fair measure of respect. The General wasn’t done. Pointed his finger at Theo.
“And Petrosian? You can take that damn camera off right about now. I’m tired of being filmed. Fat man’s about as subtle as a cock struttin’ through a hen house.”
Joan and Duke laughed while Theo did his best to look hurt. Still, he ended up laughing along with the team. JC reached over and plucked the buttonhole camera off of Theo’s shirt. Put it in his pocket.
“That better, General?”
“It sure is. Let’s go.”
*****
Duke started complaining about food before the minivan was even moving. He had a point. They had been going for almost thirty-six hours with little rest and limited sustenance. While The General browbeat them about their lack of fortitude, JC reminded him it wasn’t the Army. The General’s answer? “Well, then what the hell we waitin’ for? Get the boy some pancakes!”
Fifteen minutes later they had parked at an IHOP near the La Brea Tar Pits and were ordering their meals.
An hour after that they finished, JC rejecting Duke’s request for a third round of pancakes. He didn’t want a repeat of their trip from D.C. to New York. The conversation had been pleasant up to this point. Dancing around what needed to be said. Waiting for The General to take the hint and give the group some time alone so they could coordinate and plan. But he wasn’t leaving. Finally JC could wait no longer.
“General?” JC said politely. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a few minutes with my team.”
““Bout time you spoke up,” The General grumbled. “My bladder was ready to burst. I’ll be outside waiting for you when you’re done. Which means you’re picking up the check.”
The General left for the bathrooms. JC looked around as covertly as he could. There was nobody sitting near enough to hear their conversation. If they kept their voices low. And had a little discretion.
“We don’t
have a lot of time,” he started. “Here’s what’s going to happen. The job changes. We’re not going to shoot the target. Not like Kowalski wants.”
Joan smiled. Duke and Theo hunched down over the table, whispering their confusion.
“Listen,” JC continued, “the job proceeds. We will not hit the target with the specified hardware. Not in the manner requested.”
Duke looked around. Nobody was anywhere close. “Come on, man” he said, “spill.”
JC sighed. Slightly frustrated, Duke’s impatience irritating him.
“Okay, listen,” he started again, keeping a lid on his feelings. ”The target will still get shot. We have a few rifles left over from the library. We’re going to take one and outfit it with a match-grade barrel. When the time comes, Duke, you’ll have the .50. I’ll have the modified M4. For the people watching, namely Kowalski, you’re the shooter, I’m your spotter. We take a simultaneous shot. You miss, I hit the target. Wing her, collapse her lung, destroy her shoulder blade.” Paused. “But she lives and gets the treatment she needs. At that point, she has the sympathy and political power to do anything she wants until she succumbs to the cancer.”
Joan smiled. “Nice plan,” she said dryly.
“It was Joan’s idea,” JC explained. “It’s a good one. Duke, you’ll need to coordinate with Garcia. You need to sweet talk that woman long and hard. We need to get the forensic information for our ginned up sniper rifle into the right databases, starting with ones belonging to the Secret Service. That way when the investigation kicks in, it all points to the right place.”
“Hold on,” Duke said. “What about our phantom? That doesn’t happen?”
The Fixer, Season 1 Page 20